


When The Day Met The Night

by Miyukitty



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Rekka no Ken
Genre: Age Difference, Assassins & Hitmen, Emotional Baggage, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Insecurity, Orphans, Possessive Behavior, Sharing Body Heat, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 09:03:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2845469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miyukitty/pseuds/Miyukitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaffar frowned, his cold eyes inscrutable. He knew this army was going to war. They would battle to the death against the man who raised him, Nergal. It mattered not. He had no attachment to anyone, felt nothing when he chose to let them live or die. The only time anything stirred in his chest was when it came to Nino.</p><p>He would agree to anything she asked, simply because she asked it of him. These feelings were confusing. They left him with doubts that his observations did not allay.</p><p>Did she need him the way he needed her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	When The Day Met The Night

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY THIS IS ANOTHER OLD FIC (2008). Wanted to clean up this one because Jaffar/Nino still means a lot to me (my fave Fire Emblem ship of all time) and also is the first of a very obvious archetype I love in pairings: happy bright sunshine person brings light to gloomy dark serious person and then they can't exist without each other <3 (Also unhealthy dependency is kinda my jam~)
> 
> Canon dialogue from their C-support, mild spoilers related to their recruitment as well as Eliwood's Chapter 26x, Hector's Chapter 28x. (FE7 is now buyable through Nintendo eShop so no excuse not to replay forever??)

The crowded atmosphere of the camp was suffocating him. It took Jaffar mere moments to slip away under the cover of shadows. He skirted the tents and the crackling bonfire without a sound. Kent and Sain were on sentry duty; it was child's play for the former assassin to avoid the two bickering knights of Caelin. He kept low to the ground, his dark cloak blending with the growing darkness, and used the grazing herd of warhorses and pegasi as cover as he escaped.

 

Now he was in the darkness, alone, where he belonged. He exhaled in relief.

 

The Angel of Death crouched behind a cover of reeds, and impassively watched the bustle of camp from his vantage point across the small lake. He could still hear the rustling of the horses, the pleasant murmur of conversations, the clanking of armor and weaponry being cleaned and repaired. In true Black Fang style, he had memorized the names and positions of those in the rag-tag army within hours.

 

It still confused him, though. The relationships were an enigma. Royalty, deserters, commoners, and mercenaries alike mingled like friends and family, none of which made sense to Jaffar. Unlike the jealous and manipulative Four Fangs, their leaders were symbiotic, inspired by teamwork and closeness. The three commanders -- Marquess Eliwood, Lord Hector, and the Lady Lyndis -- were all so comfortable with each other. There appeared to be no ambition between them, no plots to rise above and conquer.

 

The most unrest he observed was in the fierce arguments Hector and Lyn shared, which were always quelled by the peace-loving Eliwood. He had heard tales of the old Black Fang, the way it used to be. It sounded like this. He was never a part of the old regime. He was not really a part of this, either. But Nino was.

 

The young girl he had rescued stirred such raw and unfamiliar feelings within him. He did not understand how the cheerful orphan with the powerful magic and the impossibly blue eyes could exist in a world as bleak as this one. She, of course, was innocent enough to fit right in with this mad caravan. She could fit in anywhere.

 

Jaffar had been trailing her all day to make sure she was in no danger. Others gravitated easily to her warmth. She could charm anyone in camp. The girl had already struck up a friendship with the shy knight Florina, the bright archer Rebecca, and much to his chagrin, the surly mage Erk, and the traitor Legault.

 

Jaffar didn't mind if Nino wanted friends. She was only fourteen, and seemed like the type who wanted to surround herself with people. He certainly wanted nothing to do with them himself. (Legault, though, could not be trusted, and Jaffar had a brief _talk_ with the tall thief after Nino was gone. The Hurricane was thoroughly bitter, but claimed to have no ill intentions towards Sonia's orphan. He would ensure that Legault maintained that stance on the matter.)

 

Jaffar frowned, his cold eyes inscrutable. He knew this army was going to war. They would battle to the death against the man who raised him, Nergal. It mattered not. He had no attachment to anyone, felt nothing when he chose to let them live or die. The only time anything stirred in his chest was when it came to Nino.

 

He'd been glad to kill the despicable Morph, Sonia, the sadist who made Nino cry again and again. He had been reluctant to fight Lloyd, because that man's death would sadden Nino, and it had. He had agreed to follow under Eliwood's banner, because Nino had asked him to come with her. He would agree to anything she asked, simply because she asked it of him. These feelings were confusing. They left him with doubts that his observations did not allay.

 

Did she need him the way he needed her?

 

He had seen this afternoon how Erk, the grumpy mage with the violet hair, had gotten flushed and embarrassed by Nino's attention. He knew that the antisocial boy, at that moment, had not been thinking of a simple friendship. What if Nino felt the same? What if that was a thing she wanted? He'd also seen the way Rebecca and Florina both welcomed the idea of a little sister to look after, and how Nino immediately warmed up to the two teenagers. What if she'd rather share her worries with other girls her age?

 

Other people, the people in this camp, openly showed emotions and acted accordingly... like Nino did. They communicated on a level Jaffar was not capable of. What if she grew accustomed to that and no longer wanted to deal with the cold exterior of an assassin? He was a tool to be used and discarded. That was how he was trained, and yet, the idea of Nino not needing him made him indescribably lonely.

 

Jaffar had never felt lonely before. He did not know how to deal with this new ache in his chest. His body longed for something he did not know how to attain, and it hurt him to not have it. He could only watch from the outside, and observe how he was different. 

 

He heard the soft footfalls behind him and did not stir. There were few people who would approach him at night, and it didn't sound like a vengeful Matthew or a jealous Legault.

 

"Jaffar, what are you doing out here in the cold?"

 

Nino's voice was hushed as she crouched down beside him. He noted with a flutter of pride that she, too, had evaded the sentries without notice. Garnet eyes scanned her over once, twice, checking for any signs of injury or malcontent. He found none, and returned his gaze to the dark pond surface.

 

"I... came here to think," he finally grunted, shifting to a kneeling position. He detached the killing edges from his waist, and deftly plunged the red-lacquered daggers into the soft earth, hilts within easy reach. Nino's sky blue eyes stared raptly at him, drinking in his every movement. She seemed fascinated by the easy grace his muscular form displayed. He had never been more conscious of his movements. His pulse quickened.

 

"Really? You came out here to think? Wow, I didn't know you had much to think about," she said with a small giggle, inching fearlessly closer to the murderer.

 

Jaffar raised an eyebrow, and noted that she was right. It was only because of her influence that he'd begun to worry about things and people beyond himself. Had she not come into his life, he would have no purpose right now. No one to give him orders. But she must have no idea how important she was to him. It would probably scare her to know how far he would go to protect her. He had already thrown away everything to follow her into these uncharted depths, and he could feel himself sinking further by the second. His chest ached.

 

"Jaffar, can I ask you something?" she piped suddenly, hugging her bare knees to her chest. He nodded after a moment of deliberation, and felt a slight tremor of unease in his stomach. What did she want to ask? Did she want him to leave? Had she noticed him following her today? Did Legault tell her something he shouldn't have?

 

"Well, um... Why were you... with Nergal?"

 

Nervously, Nino fiddled with the hem of her skirt, and did not notice Jaffar's imperceptible sigh of relief. "When I first met you, it was after you had come with Moth– I mean, with Sonia and the Black Fang. So I thought at first that you were with the Black Fang. Then, my brothers told me that you had come with Nergal. I'd never met Nergal, but... As Nergal's servants, you and Sonia must have been friends, right?"

 

Jaffar watched as Nino's voice trailed off, eyes distant and clouded with the memory of her abusive parent. She was still upset by the betrayal, even though that part of her life was behind her. He had killed Sonia to ensure that she would never suffer at that woman's hands again. It bothered him to know the wounds remained fresh. He wanted to efface anything that brought her pain.

 

And yet, Jaffar felt relief at the inquiry. Nino was still curious about him. She still chose him to share her worries. She would leave all of those other strangers to just talk to him, out in the cold, dark night, because he meant more to her. That thought drove him to give as honest an answer as he could muster.

 

"...I was selected by Nergal as a child. He raised me to become his Angel of Death... I... did not think. ...I did not feel. I did what I was told... ...and that was all."

 

His troubled gaze once again drifted to look at her. The scant moonlight glinted on her brilliantly green hair, and a cool breeze fluttered her purple cloak. She looked pensive, albeit saddened. When she didn't reply, he rushed to come up with more of an explanation, something, anything to please her. He suddenly wanted to see her smile more than anything. His voice was halting as he struggled to condense his thoughts into words.

 

"I entered the Black Fang with the intent of infiltrating them, of using them... I had heard rumors about Sonia and her daughter being there... That child, raised by Sonia... I thought she must be something like myself... But...the first time I saw you, you were with the Reed brothers, laughing... in that dazzling light... as if you belonged there..."

 

A faint smile ghosted his lips at the memory, one he often returned to on nights like this. Nino was the complete opposite of everything he was. She was friendly, open, compassionate, loving, and had never taken a life in cold blood. She was light and good, despite the neglect she'd suffered and the acceptance she'd been denied. He, on the other hand, had been discovered as a child on the scene of a massacre; a foreshadowing of his hollow life as a killer. He was as empty as a Morph before she found him. 

 

But Nino, Nino, she was so...

 

He closed his eyes, and let the truth he guarded so carefully fall freely from his lips.

 

"...I became very interested in you... When you saved my life... I thought I had you... But I couldn't do it... Nino, that was the first time I ever had... feelings..."

 

And it was true. He had been contracted to kill her, and could not. He had been ordered to kill the Prince of Bern, Zephiel, and could not because of her. Everything had spiraled away from him since she had come into his life, and to a man who had been dead since the day he was born, it felt like his life was only just beginning.

 

"Jaffar..." she breathed, gazing up at him with those irresistibly blue eyes.

 

She hesitantly reached out a hand, brushing her fingers against the ragged hem of his assassin's cloak, but then let her fingers drop to the damp grass. He did not miss the attempted contact, nor did he miss the slight tremble in her slim shoulders. He would do anything for her. Everything about him was changing too quickly to keep up with, and she was the spark that set it off. He was too far gone, helpless.

 

"You're cold," he murmured, swallowing hard. "Let... me warm you..."

 

And noiselessly his bare arms encircled her, and pulled her to sit onto his lap. She was wrapped safe in the dark fabric of his cape, hidden away from prying eyes. His gloved hands flexed protectively, a silent gesture that he would never let her go. She hummed in surprise, but quickly relaxed in his grip, and settled with her head snugly beneath his chin.

 

They stayed motionless, watching wordlessly as the clouds obscured the moon, and as night's darkness dragged on. The noises from camp trailed off, and the bonfire flickered dangerously low as its attendants drifted into slumber. He remained vigilant. He would not move from this place until the one in his arms asked him to. His heart thudded strong and fast against his ribs, though it seemed the ache in his chest had vanished.

 

Finally, as Nino began to feel her own eyes fluttering shut, she whispered in a drowsy voice to him, her savior: "Jaffar... Don't ever leave me... Ever."

 

He said nothing. He would obey her wishes, but he already knew he would follow her to the ends of the earth. Tomorrow they would go into battle, and he would be the shadow at her side that kept her safe. He could never leave. 

 

His arms remained wrapped possessively around her as she slumbered, and he held her warm body against his broad chest until dawn's light brought color back to the sky.


End file.
